


Ficlet Collection - Peter/You

by RebelDrFerguson



Series: Collections - Peter/You [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: 500-1000 word collection, F/M, Fluff, Kink, Smutt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of mini of Peter/You fics for Naz</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spacetrashobo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Spacetrashobo).



Peter/You - Dare Me

It was all just for a bit of fun really.

Sat in a pub one evening after a shoot having dinner with The Crew, Peter sat beside you in his shirtsleeves and jeans look for all this world the sexiest bearded and cuddle-worthy woodland creature. 

You hadn't a conversation opener until the waitress had come for the orders ,you both decide of the Surf an Turf and he was straight into talking to you about the joys of steak and seafood. 

He's laid back against the leather booth seat one hand in his lap the other on his bottle of Tactical Nuclear Penguin beer (It's a beer look it up) you find that stuff stupid really. It's as black as oil and looks almost as thick, but it actually smells rather sweet and you can't help but wonder how it tastes as you watch his tongue flicker out to his lower lip. He's smiling oh he's talking again.

"S-Sorry what?"

"You'd ever done something stupid for a dare?" he asked again and glacing up you noticed everyone was looking to you for an answer. Oh. You stall for a second as you think. "I..I once ate a Bird's eye chilli pepper as a dare at a party, literally couldn't feel my tongue for 3 days!" you tut at yourself, that had been a stupid dare really but a house full of hot drunk guys with pizza and alcohol you were down for anything. The groans and chuckles around the table made you smile. and you found yourself giggling at the wince Peter made. 

"I know I like spicy food but I'm no man for raw fucking chillies i tell ya that much" he smirks swinging his drink again as he just eaten one and his mouth was on fire.   
A hour and half later you were all finished with your food and currently on the fourth round of drinks, Peter now more talkative with all the beer in his system. He's even more relaxed one arm now limply around your shoulders as you lay slightly into his side and the other waving about in the air as he recalls tales of his band days.   
"T-th-there literally w-was this one lass, who like could never, like get off me, she was always touching me somehow and she'd follow us from the Hell fire to both bars and we literally had to like, walk around the town until we lost her otherwise we knew she'd follow back to the flat and hell we couldn't have groupies on our door step...I remember one of them came up to me one night and said she'd been dared to come ask me for my boxers and could i sign them!" 

the laughter round the table was becoming contagious and you found yourself muffling your own laughs into his shirt when an idea struck you.   
"how about you then ...dream boy..." you poke his side playfully. "You ever been dared to do something that mad" Peter took another drink of his beer then nodded. "sure I done loads of shit when I was younger, not a Rebel Time Lord for nothing" he smirks.

"Prove it...Script reading tomorrow I dare you to turn up in those pyjama plaid trousers you have with your pink bowie T-shirt and hoodie!" your smirking now and you watch his eyes get darker and grow that little mischievous glint you always notice when he's about to play 'Catch me if you can' with the runner on set.   
He leans down till his nose brushes your hair "your...on" he breathes gently, the mix of aftershave, beer, fabric softener and food smells of the restaurant all circling you as his arm tightens around you and you settle against him. This would be interesting. 

The next morning your all gather for the script reading. Marks grumbling about a hangover and why he shouldn't ever challenger Michelle to a round of jello shots ever again, Steven's on the phone talking to...well you have no idea and Everyone else is busy flicking the script trying to get a quick heads up on the scenes when Peter finally walks in.  
There was silence before the whistles and laughter. Where everyone including yourself become a tiny bit stunned that he's actually remembered the dare. 

Dropping his folder with a smack on the table top he leans down to you as he pulls off his scarf. "This what you meant?" he asked teasingly as he flashed you the pink and faded Bowie T shirt that he'd wear for bed...in fact he was just in his PJ's. He wasn't actually dressed. The only thing day wise he had on were his hoodie, boots and scarf.   
You purse your lips as he sits down. The thin material of the plaid bottoms leave little to your imagination of just what he was carrying in them. As the room began to settle again he leans to you...

"I dare you...to go take your panties off when we break for lunch and bring them back to me" he whispers flashing you a wink as you open your script and you find yourself biting your lip. 

The Doctor just dared you and you don't dare not do it.


	2. Go Commando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven has invited you all to a Garden Party in the middle of july. Sure it's hot. But it's about to get hotter.

A garden party. Really Moffat?

It was a very hot day in July. Steven had invited you all out to a garden party to celebrate the ending of filming and everyone was out enjoying the sun and the food and the booze.   
Your sat at one of the big tables alongside Jenna and Michelle gossiping pretty much about as much as you can about a certain trio of men whom have all turned up in kilts. Steven, Mark and Peter. 

Mark's not Scottish but at least the man has the legs for it.

"Never thought I'd see the day" Michelle mutters eyeing him across the garden just as you were, laughing alongside Mark with Paul the Series finale director, from what you could gather that were talking about blowing up daleks. Possibly the old school polystyrene ones they made back in the 70's.

Peter's looking top of his game as usual. He's had his hair cut, shaved shorter in the back and then the front is slicked over with god knows how much hair gel but it suits him, his jaw shimmers with the little smattering of silver stubble because it was a Saturday and he seemed to have a no shaving on weekends rule.  
Unlike Steven who's wearing a black jacket and vest with a red tartan kilt as if he were attending a wedding, Peter's wearing a more relaxed a Navy blue jacket and vest with a green tartan kilt and his boots. 

You go to pick up your glass when you realise you'd finished your drink but it was far too hot to wait about, thankfully Jenna had too and you both set up towards the bar to fetch more drinks. 

You admire his legs as you pass by, firm calfs beneath the white knees high socks and your blushing as you glance back up to see that he's smiling at you.  
You try to distract yourself at the bar with the cocktail listing to try and keep your mind from wander to just wondering what he's wearing underneath.  
You knew a lot of Scots go commando. It seemed to be the fashion for it. But was Peter that brave? Your biting your lip hoping the pain would distract that thought away now too as the bar tender appears. 

Your thinking about chips. Jenna fancy's chips. So you head back out to ask Michelle when you catch your foot on a plant pot in passing and stumble forward onto the sloped grass verge, tutting at yourself you go to get up when you look up you notice Peter. 

His legs splayed a little sat on a bench busy listening to Moffat and you notice that from your angle...you can see... right up his kilt.   
Fucking sweet mother of all Scottish Italians Sausages. 

A heat flushed to your face with impossible speed when you find that he's spotted you, that he has clearly seen you laid there, looking up and knows for a fact you have a rather interesting view from the smirk on his face. 

It's when he offers you a hand up that you scramble to your feet speechless and stuttering nonsense apologises as he chuckles.   
Dashing back to the table you take a moment to finally breath.

"You okay Hun?" Michelle asks worriedly having seen you fall. You nod and shyly glance back over to Peter's table who's still watching you with a smirk and casts you a cheeky wink. 

"Y-Yeah...fine...erm Sausage?, No wait sorry... do you fancy chips?" you blustered quickly frustrated as Michelle then ends up in a fit of laughter having seen Peter's wink and putting two and two together. 

"Sure...But what the Sausage like?" she giggles "I prefer mine unadulterated" she winks

You chew your lip nervously and look back to Peter who's now back in on his conversation.  
"Oh don't worry" you sigh   
"There's nothing on it"


	3. Not so Dirty texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 7 hour road trip up to Edinburgh at night makes for some boring radio and interesting messages.

You sigh for a third time in the back of a Jeep. Bored and cold.

Its 12.40am and your in a convey of traffic on the motorway up into Scotland. 3 cars, a van and a truck. 

The truck you see in front of the car carries the TARDIS under several tarpaulins to guard it from the heavy rain beating the wind shield.   
You look at your phone as it buzzes. 

You and Jenna had been texting each other from the separate cars. 

But it wasn't Jenna. It was an unknown number. 

[How you holding up? - P]

You're a bit surprised as why Peter was texting. He'd driven to Cardiff from London this week coming so he was driving alone with all the costume departments kits in his boot which they loved him for because it meant they didn't need to hire a second van.  
You then get a text from Jenna saying she'd passed him your number when he text to ask her is she was okay.

You're a bit nervous getting this 'connected' but you cant help but feel a tingle from such a small gesture.  
-I'm alright, bored though, you?-

[ Just pulled in for coffee. Who's in your car? - P ]

-Mark, Paul both asleep and Sue's driving- 

[ You not tired...? - P x]

You are if your honest. Not only had you gotten up at 9am for a script reading but you'd all then been out for lunch and then been packing for the shift up north for the 3 days filming.   
There was only about 2 hours left of driving to go but you also felt you could do with a pit stop.

You were about to text a reply when Sue turned to you. "Fancy a coffee? I know we haven't got much further to go but we need to re inject life into this so called...crew" she tutted at Mark all snuggled down in his padded jacket snoring. 

Peter had set of an hour before you all to get the costume departments kits to the studios ready for the morning interviews they'd also be attending.  
-What station you at, were just going to stop?-

[Some stop n shop has a burger place...I'm just outside of Glasgow - P xx] 

You ask Sue and she points out your only behind by about 20 minutes and you'll catch him up there. 

After that you feel you're out of conversation but he texts back.  
[So how's Marks snoring? P xx]

You giggle. 

-annoying- you smile at the co writer who's asleep in the front seat.

[Talk dirty to me?? - P xx]

You blink. Did he just really ask that or are you that tired you need to imagine Peter Capaldi asking for dirty texts?   
Just before you can reply he texts again. 

[Sorry I'm bored too...doesn't have to be dirty really, please? - P xx]

You purse your lips thinking what you could say you decide to spill a truth.

-Had a dream about you last night...you looked sexy-

Your hating yourself as soon as it sent but he replied quickly.

[Oh yeah? What was sexy - P xx]

-You were only wearing jeans and standing in my shower- 

That was true. You'd been sent an old video by a friend on your phone last night. Peter Andres Mysterious Girl some old high school joke and the thing had gotten stuck in your head before you went to sleep and you suddenly had the idea of finding Peter in nothing but his jeans standing under the shower getting soaked through singing as he teases you in there with him.  
It all gets a bit 'steamy' from there and all you remember is how real it felt. The wet hot skin on skin and cool lips against your throat.

[Okay...anything I need to know why you dreamt that? - P]

-Mysterious girl- 

[Peter fucking Andre?? That's what you want? -P]  
[I could give you one better  
Your blushing. You can practically hear him smirking.

-I know you could...Peter Andre doesn't have a snog box x-

[not like mine he don't - P x] 

-He was pumped in that video though x-

Your teasing him really, you'd never date a man like Andre but you couldn't say he didn't have a nice body. 1996 or not, damn.

[No comment - P x]

-You wanted to know foxy xx-  
Your biting your lip in wonder what he'd say to you calling him your secret pet name.

Several moments pass and your about to text and see if he's set off again when he replies twice.

[I know i don't sext much but i doubt this is how it goes - P]  
[Me foxy? Think you have the wrong number - P]

-I'm 100% sure i don't because if the man I'm talking to is a 57 year old Whovain who has silver hair and is wearing a Bowie t shirt right now then yeah i find him foxy-  
You already hit send before you realised how forward that sounded. Your cursing yourself as Sue turns into the service station.

Your about to try and reply again when Sue speaks up. "Found the time lord" she chuckles and you look up to see Peter sat on the bonnet of his car under the sheltered parking at the front, phone in one hand and coffee in the other. 

She pulls in next to him and you know realise you have no chance of avoid the obvious subject you just threw out. 

You climb out of the car thankful for the fresh air and grimace at the rain that pours down not more a foot or so away outside the sheltered parking spots. The car park is almost empty apart from a few lorries and a scatter of late night drivers.

He's smiling at you. A smirk boring a smirk and you wonder just what he's thinking.

Mark clambers from the car with Paul and suggests coffee, so both of them head inside with Sue for a toilet break and coffee leaving you alone with Peter.   
"So...your still into Peter Andre?" he teases swilling the hot black liquid in the cup. 

"oh gods no...seriously, I just got sent the old video and the stupid song was in my head that's all..he isn't...my type...anymore" you mutter shyly sensing another tease coming. But a gust of wind makes you shudder.   
"urgh 7 hours driving who the hell planned this?" you ask tucking your hands in your pockets trying to bury yourself in your coat. 

"Mark i think" he replies seemingly unfazed by it, well what do you expect he's Scottish. When you shudder again he's chuckling. "You're in no shape built for weather like this are you?" he jokes. You shake your head. It was not always this cold back home.

"I'm not sure how you can be warm though...your slimmer if anything Peter!" you smiles his own coat seems to swallow him up.

"Scottish leather skin, I can handle the cold but if it's gets over 30 i bloody melt" he states ruffling his hair, the long fingers comb through the strands almost tenderly and the wonder of what his hands feel like naws at your conscious. 

Sue then returns with your coffee. "Sue..can i steal this one from you, I need some road company as I've pretty much spent the last 3 hours listening to Radio 4 and i can't handle much more shitty love songs" he pleads nudging your arm and she laughs. 

"sure, I'll have plenty of chat out of mark once he's got some coffee down him so, only fair"

You're not sure what to think now. Your happy and curious whilst totally worried about the whole text conversation too now. 

As the rain seemed to lighten slightly you decide to move on and grabbing your backpack go to climb in the car with Peter and make head towards Edinburgh.   
"Mysterious girl, i want get close to you" he sings opening his door grinning. 

"Oh shut up...Mr 'I'm Not Cher'" you giggle opening your side and he laughs settling in his seat before casting you a wink and starting up.

This would be interesting 2 hours.


	4. Midnight Banana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Established relationship/Plotless smut. You’re in bed together, sleeping, in “the spoon” way, you suddenly feel his breath and lips on the back of your neck…  
> Because somebody woke up in the middle of the night and he wants to have sex…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Shitty Plotless smut. You have been warned. DO NOT READ ON IF YOUR AGAINST READER/CELEBRITY FICTION or anything with mature themes.  
> (Has not been beta read so mistakes are likely)

As much as all the travelling around the world was fun and all, it was tiring. London, to san diego, then into New york, back to london to catch a plane towards berlin. 

The lack of proper sleep wasn't fun. Though you admired how well Peter put up with it. He'd grabbed a few hours on the plane and then just bossed his way through the last 4 hours till you were home and hit the bedroom. 

You guessed it was rather adorable how you'd had to help him take his clothes off to actually get in bed because he couldn't seem to function properly to undo his belt or take off his shirt.

But now it was nearing 1 in the morning and you're registered you’d only managed maybe 3 hours of full sleep for someone to wake you up.  
Or Something. 

You find yourself curled up in the most comfortable way possible and sleepy spooned rather perfectly by a certain partner. But it was his LITTLE partner that wasn't asleep. Okay...his MEDIUM partner...something that was quite firmly beginning to press against your bum and quite frankly it was making you blush so hard you were glad it was dark in the room.

You tell yourself to just ignore it and try to go back to sleep, but Peter starts to shuffle and presses himself closer nuzzling your neck and you feel the distinct contact of his cool lips on your shoulder.  
“--Peter?--” you mutter, trying to see if he’s just faking sleep.

“--umhm?--”

“--You awake?--” stupid question really, but you had nothing else to say. What were you going to say? “--Babe your dicks poking me?--”  
He'd probably find that funny but still. 

You turn your head and he opens an eye. You can see the situation registering as he opens both his eyes and he smirks. A hand that was wrapped tightly around your chest slips free and slides lower to your hip pulling you back against him properly and you're biting your lip against the feeling as he leans closer to purr against your neck.  
“--I think I'm more awake that I know darling…--”  
You get brave and grind back on him making him growl. “--You think?--”  
He slips a leg between your thighs and you suddenly get an idea.  
“--I thought you were tired?--” you ask but he just kisses your shoulder again. “--I was...now I’m not, could do with some help getting back to sleep though--”  
You let him lean further over you, kissing further down your exposed shoulder and you lift a hand from beneath the covers to run it into his soft silver curls.  
‘I bet you could’, you think with a mischievous smirk on your face… ‘I bet you could’  
You give him but another minute to start leaving a mild hickey on your throat when you decide if your going to screw this late at night, you're at least going to be in control. 

You flip the table.  
Or at least in this case. Him.  
With a slight ‘oumfh’ he’s now on his back and you're straddling his waist smiling like a cat who just found a tasty mouse. “--you want some attention to this...then we do this my way--” you purr running a hand over the evident tent in his red tartan boxers. Very nicely dressed package if you think about it. Christmas is about to ‘come’ early...and you're about to let is ‘snow’. 

You lean down to kiss him sweetly but he somehow still manages to steal control of the kiss making you moan into his mouth as he grasps at your thighs.  
You know you won't get anything you way unless you have his hands under control. So sliding back a little you grab the slik tie you left on the bed post.  
He watches you curiously as you manage to get the tie around his wrists and round the headboard before he can guess just what you're going to do to him.

You make quick work of his boxers in which he give a blissful sigh at the relief.  
“--You’re suddenly more awake now too?--” he comments cheekily earning himself a hearty smack on the thigh which causes the eyebrows to come down and the corner of his mouth to curl up.

“--Shush…--”  
He was quiet for all of two seconds before you take him into your mouth and the first word that left his lips was just music to your ears. “--Fuuccck--”

He’s wriggling now, can’t keep his hips still as you suck. You can literally feel his heart best on your tongue as you run it up the underside of his arousal and watch was the tip begins to glisten with pre-cum.  
“--How badly do you want this?--” you find yourself asking as you flick your tongue out to lap it up like a little kitten.  
The only noise he seemed to be able to make was the cross between a whimper and a gasp.  
“--That bad huh?--”  
Leaving it with one last gentle kiss you move back up his body to remove the rest of your clothes. 

“--Fuck darling--”  
He’s panting and sweating already and you find yourself laughing at the fact you hadn't even started.  
As you lean in to kiss him again you let your nails run teasingly down his front, just touching the sides as you come to his hips again and he squeals like a school boy.  
Now finding yourself unable to wait you move back to rub yourself against him and he grunts at the feeling of your sex against his. 

“--I-I Love you--”  
The almost breathless pant of devotion has you moaning and settling over him without second thought.  
“--Oh gods!--”  
He’s big. You know that. You knew that. But it was never something you'd get used to, the feeling of him inside you. You try to pace yourself, try to block out the moans and whimpers of him beneath you as he thrust his hips up to meet yours.  
All a sudden it’s becoming too much and you're trying to stop it…

“--Babe please--”  
He wants you to untie him and with the darken lust in his eyes your find yourself unable to say no. The second he’s free he’s sat up and claimed your lips in rough passion and the next thing you find yourself on your back pinned into the messy sheets bodily as he’s picking up speed, lifting your hips, moaning out his own arrival of pleasure as he hits that one spot and you're screaming his name.  
you must have blacked out for a few moments because when you awake your curled into his chest and he’s munching crisps.  
“--You know you're supposed to smoke after sex or go to sleep not get the munchies--” you grumble like a perfectly cosy kitten who is just so comfy you don't even what to flex your toes.

“--Yea...well, it takes a lot of energy to power me--”  
You're rolling your eyes as he offers you the packet, “--Hungry--”  
“--eurgh prawn cocktail really, no thank I’ve had enough of your midnight banana to want any crisps--”  
Then he's chuckling. That sort of addictive and infectious chuckle that you love so much.  
“--My what?--” he asks with a boyish grin.  
“--Your midnight banana...always...fills me up--”


	5. A Pleasurable game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's got box seat tickets from his brother for Celtic footy game. you get tugged along only for the view...and the fun you can get up too.

As much as Peter hated sports. He did seem to like watching Celtic. The Celts as he called them were a old family pass time.   
Something that his Sundays had been filled with back at home. 

It’s a damp and cool day in Autumn but you couldn’t care much for it, nor the men running around on the pitch. But the man beside you. 

There’s a scruffy looking Scot beside you. A dark blue flat cap pulled down as if it would hide his face more than the ray bans on his face. He hasn't bothered to shave for the past few days and he’s but a day away from a full beard. His long wool grey coat, his classic navy cardigan and slot machine printed t shirt, jeans and trainers. You shiver as the wind picks up and try the snuggle deeper in your jumper and thin waterproof, why you didn't put something thicker on your not sure. 

The only reason he was here was because his brother had tickets, couldn't go and Peter took the chance to get out the house and blend back into Glasgow without getting mobbed by fangirls. 

"Cold darling?" he whispers into your ear as he puts an arm around you. You wonder if anyone would notice his voice but everyone seemed so absorbed in their beers and the game. 

Recalling the blanket you'd brought you reach into his backpack and pull it free. Thankfully the box seats were rather cosy and you spread the blanket over the both of you. He chuckles. as you snuggle deeper and sneak your hand between his thighs with an innocent face of 'Just keeping it warm'. He doesn't look at you and pretends not to notice. With the second half kicking off your becoming bored at the whole 1-1 score line and you find the rough feeling of his jeans was nice against your palm. Your rubbing the inside of his leg before you know it, only to find you had to stroke the right side...the side he tucked 'it' down. 

The gruff muffled cough and sudden darkening look on his face that was still not paying you any attention suggested it was a very obvious sign you were having an effect on him.   
You continue pretending to be oblivious to the issue at hand. Literally. You can feel it straining after a while and you're fighting the smirk on your face as he starts to bite down on his glove. 

Suddenly the actions perking up, Celtic are close to scoring again, they miss, get the ball again and...

Now usually Peter would stand up to see the strike...but as the crowd jumped up to cheer the goal you half snort at hearing the grunt of relief at orgasm he gives during the commotion. Now he's looking at you. Eyes gleaming with a wicked sense of 'You'll get in trouble for this' and you're biting your lip as your finger find that small wet patch on the inside leg of his jeans. He's trying not to be amused but you can see the smirk he's fighting back under his glove as you giggle. 

"How was the game? We Win?" His brother calls down the stairs as you return to the house.

"Was okay and yeah as if Ross County would win..." you smile making for the kitchen.

Peter stands in the hall holding his coat over the front of his jeans seemingly innocent. He waits till you pick up the tea his niece offers you, "aye, wasn't bad...pretty 'Pleasurable' game" he calls watching you take a sip as he makes up the stairs himself and your spraying tea down yourself laughing. 

No-one gets why you two are laughing. But It's the little things that make life perfect right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Trash! And originally written for Kim my tumblr bud, but has been posted here for the sake of Peter/You Trash that needs to join the rest of my trash. Enjoy or not , tis up to you.


	6. Mile High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your flight back home from a week in New Zealand is much more pleasurable than you first though it would be.   
> Prompt by QueenElizabeth

You hear him huff for the 4th time in 10mins as you flick the magazine. He seems to have lost interest in his Ian Rankin Novel. You recently spent the past week with him in New Zealand on Vacation after work commitments. 

He's had a long week of press tours and you'd had a week off borderline needless meetings. As much as you'd loved the week together, having that almost teenager like playfulness back beside you, you were now on the trip back to London, and it was long....very very long. Thank goodness you booked first class, the beds would be useful. You glance at your phone as it buzzes. 

'I'm Bored' 

Like you hadn't guessed that As the 5th sigh was obviously to get your attention.

You look over the magazine at the small wall between you and him and he sits up to smirk over the top. As the air Hostess passed and she put a can of Fanta on his side table you decided to snuggle yourself down, pulled the blanket up, if you could get comfy enough you might be able to get a few hours of sleep seeing as it was almost dark now. As the hall goes quiet and you turn the magazine again, Peter moves, he looks down the hall before sliding from his bed and climbing into yours...under your blanket...and down between your thighs. You try to keep reading, fain innocent. 

It's a good minute of shuffling before he goes still and you glance down to see that it genuinely looks like you haven't got a grown ass man hiding in your bed.   
Your smiling now and flick on the tiny TV as a air hostess walks past again. You bite your lip as cool slim fingers find their way up your legs and under your skirt clearly enjoying the soft skin of your inner thighs, thin lipped kisses follow the callous fingertips. 

You try to muffle yourself into the pillow a little as he gets closer, finger's pulling away panties and his hot breath against your folds is driving you wild.   
You silently gasp as he takes you into his mouth like he's eating a juicy orange and drags his bottom lip up over your clit. You feel him purring more than hear it. The rumble in his chest as he enjoys the taste of you on his tongue. As much as the sudden prickle of his 5 o'clock shadow feels against your sensitive skin, the shock is utterly arousing and your left biting the pillow and desperately watching for the air hostess. He's lavishing you like he's a cat licking up some expensive cream, your brain can't get off the heat of his tongue nor the soft feeling of it against that one sweet spot. 

You sneak a hand under the covers and entangle your fingers in his luscious silver curls. "--Urh, Peter...."

Your legs are starting to quiver. The sign you're getting close...closer...and so does the Air Hostess. You trying to fight the thoughts of him on top of you in that hotel bed back in New Zealand but it's rather hard...in more ways than one, as you hear the sound of his belt and zipper, clearly a bit tight.   
Gritting your teeth you shuffle up to smile at the Air Hostess as she pauses to offer you tea. Keeping eye contact to make sure she hasn't noticed Peter wasn't in your booth you decline and shuffle as Peter nips at the inside of your thigh to be cheeky. 

Then she steps past to see Peter not in his bed and looks down the hall. "He's gone to stretch his legs, probably to the toilet" you offer gently, she smiles at the suggestion and continues down the hall. 

The moment she is safely out of hearing distance you lift the blanket, even though it's dark the TV gives just enough light to see his smirk and tug him back to your centre, and you grasp his free hand as he raises it up to let you suck on his middle finger , the other hand...the fingers sneaking inside to find your G-Spot as you fight back the on-coming moan of orgasm. At home you'd be far more vocal, to the point where just hearing you moan his name made him more excited.   
In but a few thrusts of his long fingers and your slipping into the arms of pleasure and groan his name haphazardly into the pillow, biting down to stop yourself waking anyone up. 

The dark didn't allow for you to see what he was doing to himself but the muttering of a foul curse into your centre and your thigh, suggested it was just as good for him even if you didn't get time to get hands on. 

You check for the air hostess as he shuffles about again before he slides up and you pull him in for a kiss, you find something wet on his chin and looking down you notice that he's removed his t shirt. You shuffle aside as he sneaks out of the bed with another kiss and wipes your chin with his t-shirt to which you can only blush at realising just 'what' he was using the shirt to 'clean up'.

Jumping back in his bed and pulling a shirt from his overnight bag he peers over the top to smile politely and tries to right his hair as the air hostess heads back with a young boy in tow. The little boy spots Peter and pauses in there walk back to his mother.

"Doctor?" You can't help the grin on your face hearing him getting called that. The Air Hostess goes to apologise at the boy disturbing him but Peter is already saying hello, a few words about the magazine he was carrying and a giggle later the boy is running down the plane to his parents waving the autograph in the air. 

The glass of wine the air hostess brought back for him with the sickly sweet smile and thank you for such a gesture had you pulling the attack eyebrows. But your smile returns as he cheers you over the wall partition and you laugh when the captain voices over that your due to land in an hour. 

"Nice flight?" he smirks as he see's you look out the window. You settle down into the warmth of the blankets a bit sleepy thinking about all the things you plan to wipe the smirk from his face. "Very nice thank you...yes"

**Author's Note:**

> (C) No Copying, Reproduction or Duplication or linking without author permission.


End file.
